


Unbound

by endgirl



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: Bondage, Community: femslash_kink, F/F, Femslash, Threesome, Threesome - F/F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 20:24:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/229405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endgirl/pseuds/endgirl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kahlan walks in on something she shouldn't have. Denna and Cara don't seem to mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Unbound

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: mild D/s, bondage
> 
> Written for the Third Annual [Femslash Kink Meme](http://femslash-kink.dreamwidth.org/) for the prompt "Denna/Cara/Kahlan, Cara watches at first"

The dull, muffled smack of flesh colliding is the first thing Kahlan hears as she rounds the corner to climb the stairs. She tries her best to ignore it, just as she has for the past three nights in Denna’s brothel. She has already said goodnight to Richard and Zedd, leaving them to enjoy the sumptuous parlor and the painted women who decorate it with their bodies. Cara retired early, and although Kahlan was exhausted too, she forced herself to remain still when the Mord-Sith stood and said goodnight.

The past few weeks on the road have worn massive holes in the restraint that Kahlan wraps around herself like a second skin. She fears that each coming moment might finally be the one where she will lose control of her senses and throw herself at Cara. So when Cara went up to the room they were given to share, she stayed behind. She dreaded what might happen if she had to watch the other woman casually undress and slide into bed, like it was nothing.

Kahlan had waited as long as she possibly could before leaving the relative safety of the sitting room, until she ran out of excuses to stay. Zedd was telling tall tales to a pair of blushing girls, and Richard would be safe enough as long as Denna was out of sight -- and the Mord-Sith-turned-madam was nowhere to be found.

Now, as Kahlan climbs the darkened staircase, she wonders if she should have hid out a little longer, and spared herself the sounds that echo from behind closed doors: the anonymous gasps and moans that make the blood throb painfully in her veins

Legs shaking, she reaches her room at the end of the hall. She turns the handle slowly so as not to wake Cara, but when she steps inside, her stomach drops. One of the beds has been disturbed and a candle burns on the table beside a folded pile of red leather, but Cara is not there.

Kahlan turns back to the dim hallway, frantic. She knows very well that Cara can take care of herself, but that doesn’t stop her mind from racing through every dangerous scenario that might have befallen her friend. She makes it as far as the top of the stairs, poised to call for Richard, when she hears Denna’s voice through an ornate wooden door on her left. Kahlan doesn’t mean to move toward the sound, but her legs don’t listen. She pushes the door open without knocking, without considering what horrors she might find on the other side.

And there in the center of the small room is Cara, naked and bound to a stone column. Her eyes widen when she sees Kahlan.

Kahlan opens her mouth to scream, to call for help, to demand that Cara be untied. But as she takes in the flush of Cara’s skin and the darkness of her lips, the words die in her throat. Confessors may not be well-versed in the intricacies of sexuality, but Kahlan knows what she has walked in on. Nothing could be more obvious. She stands perfectly still, afraid to breathe, afraid to do anything but look at Cara, in case the vision before her should shatter.

Finally, Denna steps between them, blocking her view with white leather. The uniform seems different from the last time Kahlan saw it, almost indecent in the way it clings to Denna’s body. Kahlan licks her dry lips and tries not to stare.

 “I told Cara that you would be coming to join us, but she didn’t believe me,” Denna says, an artful smile playing across her face.

“Leave her out of this,” Cara snaps, glaring at Denna’s back. When she looks toward the Confessor, her voice changes to a plea. “Kahlan. You shouldn’t be here.”

Kahlan begins to speak to Cara, but Denna cuts her off. “You forget your place, Cara,” Denna hisses at the bound woman behind her, and all traces of her smile are gone. Cara’s anger, in turn, seems to bubble and grow, until the power crackling between the two Mord-Sith makes goosebumps rise on Kahlan’s arms.

“You know I don’t make empty threats,” Cara says, her voice low. “If you don’t leave Kahlan alone, I swear I will--”

Denna swiftly raises one gloved hand in the universal signal for silence, and Kahlan watches in amazement as Cara’s voice stops short. Her eyes flash furiously and she grinds her teeth, but she obeys.

“Your... _concern_ for the Confessor is touching, Cara,” Denna says, each word laced with disdain. She slowly makes her way around Kahlan’s body, appraising each muscle, every curve. Kahlan knows that she should turn around and flee, leave the Mord-Sith to their games, but her body will not follow the command.

“I can see why she appeals to you,” Denna continues, and the dark, teasing lilt has returned to her voice. She drags the tip of one finger down Kahlan’s spine, and it’s all Kahlan can do not to gasp. “What do you think, Kahlan? Shall I send you back to your room? Do you wish to be _left alone_?”

Kahlan’s gaze flicks back and forth between Denna’s face and Cara’s bared skin, and need pulses low in her belly. The fiery look in Cara’s eyes, the warmth of the hand on her back -- it’s more than she can take. She feels unstable and shaky; her mouth seems to water and feel too dry, all at the same time. She knows that in this moment, she is the opposite of what a Confessor should be. And yet she desperately wants the feeling to go on.

Slowly, Kahlan shakes her head.

Denna reaches up and takes Kahlan’s chin in her hand, drawing one finger over her lower lip. “When I ask you a question, I expect a direct answer.”

Kahlan swallows twice before her mouth feels like it will work. Denna’s words caress her skin as softly as her fingers do, and Kahlan is disarmed by the gentleness. She has to remind herself that she is the Mother Confessor, that she has stared down warlords and monarchs, brought entire kingdoms to their knees under her command. There is no reason that one Mord-Sith -- even _two_ Mord-Sith -- should make her feel so unbalanced.

“I want to stay,” Kahlan finally says. The words come out strong and clear despite her racing heart, and when Denna lets go of her chin, she turns to look at Cara. The Mord-Sith stares at her with a look on her face that Kahlan has never seen before. The warning is still there, but there’s hunger, too, and something more tender.

Kahlan begins to speak to Cara, but then she hesitates. She looks to Denna instead. “May I... speak to her?”

Asking for permission seems to be the right choice, because Denna purses her lips and nods once. Kahlan turns back to Cara, to the woman she has been watching for months. She steps forward slightly, just enough to make the white cloth of her dress sway around her feet. Cara’s wrists are tied at her sides against the stone, a few inches from each hip and too far for her reach her own body. Her ankles are bound with the same strips, shoulder width apart, and Kahlan finds her eyes caressing each knot, each turn of the leather.

“Cara, is it--? I mean, is this...?”

“It’s okay, Kahlan,” Cara says. “If you want to, it’s okay.” Her voice is quiet, almost soothing, but there is a tightness to it that makes Kahlan wonder if maybe, somehow, Cara has been watching her, too.

“That’s enough chatter,” Denna says. “Undress.”

Kahlan’s head spins toward Denna, and the small smile that has been growing on her lips falls away. She did not expect things to move so quickly. In truth, she isn’t sure what she expected. The more she thinks about it, the more she realizes that she does not know what she has bargained for.

Her mouth falls open. “You mean naked?”

Denna lets out a bark of laughter. “Yes, Confessor, that is what I mean.” Unmoving, Kahlan peers into Denna’s face. She hesitates a second too long, it seems, because Denna’s eyes narrow. “ _Now_ ,” she says.

The order sends a rush of unexpected heat through Kahlan’s body, and she lifts trembling hands to the laces at the front of her dress. As she pulls at the first one, she sees Denna’s eyelashes flutter. The movement is minuscule, almost nothing, but to Kahlan’s practiced gaze it betrays everything. Experimentally, she stills her hands at the front of her dress, and she watches as a muscle in Denna’s jaw twitches. It confirms her suspicion. Denna might give the orders, may stand powerful and pristine in her uniform -- but the Mord-Sith wants this, too. Under her white leather, she burns just as hot.

The realization makes Kahlan braver, and she pushes her dress off her shoulders in a single motion. As she steps out of it, she glances at Cara. Cara strains against the ties that hold her, hands flexing as if she yearns to grab at the skin being unveiled.

When she turns back to Denna, the Mord-Sith is pointing one finger at the floor. Kahlan follows her hand, but she can see nothing unusual about the stonework. She looks between Denna and the floor and frowns in confusion.

“She’s telling you to kneel,” Cara says, her voice thick.

“Oh!” Kahlan exclaims softly.

Denna raises her eyebrows in challenge. Kahlan stares for a long beat before gradually lowering herself to the ground, one leg at a time. The movement feels unfamiliar and awkward, and she wonders what she should do with her hands.

“ _Kahlan_ ,” Cara groans. She watches with her head thrown back against the stone column, as if it’s all she can do not to come right then and there.

“Since you can’t stay quiet on your own, I will help you,” Denna growls. She stalks over to Cara and forces a thick band of white cloth between her teeth. She ties it roughly behind Cara’s head, then moves to pull something from her belt.

“Wait!” Kahlan cries. She can’t see what Denna is reaching for, but the only thing she can think of is the Agiel. “Please don’t hurt her.”

Denna pauses her movements and turns back around. She folds her arms across the armor that covers her chest and looks down at Kahlan with a mixture of annoyance and amusement. “You are naked and on your knees, Confessor, and _now_ you wish to negotiate?” Denna says.

“Yes.” Kahlan glances at Cara, who watches in silent, wide-eyed surprise.

“Very well,” Denna says, moving to Kahlan’s side, so close they almost touch. Her amusement seems to grow, and her dark smile makes the Confessor shiver. “If I promise not to hurt her, what will you give me in return?”

Kahan looks up into the ice-blue eyes above her. “What would be appropriate?”

“Oh, Kahlan,” Denna whispers. She strokes her gloved fingertips along the woman’s throat. “There are so many things I wish to take from you. But I think for now, we will begin with the one that intrigues me the most.” Denna steps back, and Kahlan misses the contact right away. “You will touch yourself for me until you climax.”

“What?” Kahlan jolts out of the haze Denna’s touch had lulled her into. “I can’t do that!”

“I see. Sparing Cara pain is not worth your embarrassment.”

“No! It is! I--” Kahlan struggles to go on, but she can’t find the words.

She had thought that Denna and Cara would guide her through this... whatever this is. She’d thought they would touch her and tease her and overwhelm her senses, until she had no choice but to respond. The notion of doing _that_ , all on her own -- and with them _watching!_ \-- feels a thousand times more terrifying. She glances to Cara for help, but the gagged woman is in no position to speak on her behalf. Besides, Cara’s twisting body seems unable to decide whether it wants to break free of the restraints and attack the other Mord-Sith, or whether it likes Denna’s idea very much.

Kahlan looks back to the woman in front of her. Denna is watching her closely, almost carefully. And suddenly Kahlan understands. She is being tested. Denna is measuring her -- her nerve, her willingness to submit, the lengths she will go to protect Cara. But Kahlan is the Mother Confessor, and she is not used to being toyed with. Reckless pride swells up in response to the challenge.

“Alright. Fine.”

Denna reaches out and pinches one of Kahlan’s nipples hard between her fingers. “ _Alright, fine_ is not an acceptable answer.

Kahlan cries out in shock, and the pain shoots straight between her legs. “I’m sorry!”

“I am making you a generous offer, Kahlan. I will not cause Cara pain, and in exchange, you will masturbate for me. Do you accept?”

Kahlan swallows. Every time she begins to feel at ease, to feel as though she can navigate this game, Denna knocks her off balance all over again.

“Yes, Denna,” she says, gasping.

Denna rewards her by releasing her nipple and leaning down to place a firm kiss to her neck. “Good girl,” she says. Denna straightens up and nudges the toe of her boot between the Confessor’s knees. “Spread your legs.

It is only as Denna presses her legs apart that Kahlan realizes how tightly she has been clenching them together. The cool air is harsh against the feverish skin of her inner thighs, and she pulls in a shaking breath.

Denna takes three steps backwards, so she stands midway between the two naked women. This time, she doesn’t block their view of each other. Kahlan sits back on her heels and runs her palms along the tops of her legs, from hip to kneecap, hoping to calm herself. But against flesh that has been hungering for contact, it has the opposite effect. Kahlan’s body throbs under her own simple touch, and she finds her thighs opening wider of their own accord.

“Your nipple hurts where I pinched it, doesn’t it?” Denna says.

Kahlan looks up at her in surprise. “Yes.”

“Use your fingers to make it feel better.”

Kahlan inches one hand up to the nipple Denna assaulted, acutely aware of the two pairs of Mord-Sith eyes that track her every movement. Slowly, she slides her fingers over her skin and feels her cheeks turning pink. But it feels so good to finally be touched that she forces her embarrassment down and tries to focus on the way her nipple hardens beneath her fingers.

“Use both hands,” Denna says. Kahlan brings her hand up to touch her other nipple. Denna watches her for almost a minute before she speaks again. “Now I want you to pinch them until it causes you pain.”

Kahlan automatically shakes her head in protest, even as her fingers begin to clench around her flesh and her mouth opens in a perfect ‘O.’

“I know you’re scared. But I want you to do it for me anyway, Kahlan.”

Somehow, Denna’s words make Kahlan _want_ to do it, and she moans as she pinches her nipples between her thumbs and her index fingers. She presses down until the pain is sharp and she cries out, and then she presses down a little bit more.

“Good,” Denna says, gruff and low. For the first time, her voice betrays her arousal. “Do you know what I think, Kahlan?”

Kahlan shakes her head, but then remembers what she learned earlier. “No, Denna,” she adds, breathless.

“I think you like it when I hurt you, don’t you? I heard you moaning.” Denna licks her lips. “Did it make you wet, Kahlan?”

Kahlan’s face turns bright red. Impossible though it seems, she knows Denna is right. She is soaking wet.

“Show me.”

Denna’s gaze fixes on the spot between the Confessor’s thighs. Kahlan lets her right hand fall away from her breast, and it grazes over the taut curve of her stomach and through the dark curls between her legs. She bites down on her lower lip to keep from crying out when her hand brushes against her oversensitive skin. She uses the tips of her fingers to spread herself open, to expose her drenched flesh to Denna and Cara’s hungry eyes. Cara groans into the cloth between her teeth, and the sound sends a new shot of liquid through Kahlan’s body.

“Mmm,” Denna murmurs in appreciation. “I want you to feel how wet you are.”

Kahlan trails her left hand down from her chest and dips her first finger into the moisture.

“Taste it,” Denna whispers.

Kahlan’s eyes widen as she stares up at Denna. Surely, she can’t mean.... But Denna raises an eyebrow, and Kahlan sees the hint of a threat cross her face. Quickly, she brings her finger up and takes it into her mouth. To Kahlan’s great surprise, a hum sounds deep in her throat. Her eyes drift closed, and instead of wanting to stop, she finds herself sucking eagerly.

“Yes. Now touch yourself, Kahlan.”

Without hesitation, Kahlan snakes her hand back down between her legs. She runs her fingertips along the swollen lips of her sex, dragging the wetness up from her center. Her skin seems to burn under her touch, and she gasps the first time her fingers slip over the hard bundle of nerves.

“You know, if Cara hadn’t behaved so badly earlier, I might have let her do this for you.”

Kahlan’s eyes fly open, and she groans at the thought. Her hand moves more deliberately over her flesh as she takes in the woman on the other side of the room. Cara’s chest is heaving, and she watches Kahlan from under half-closed eyelids.

“Would you have liked that?” Denna says, her voice low. Kahlan listens to Denna’s words, but she can’t pull her eyes away from Cara. “Would you have liked Cara’s mouth on you?”

The wetness against Kahlan’s hand seems to double as Denna speaks. She moves her fingers faster.

“Would you have liked to feel Cara’s tongue? She would have licked you until you wanted to push her away. Until you thought you would die if she kept going. Or maybe she would have used her hand instead,” Denna says, as if mulling over the possibilities. Kahlan’s pulse races. “Put your fingers inside yourself, Kahlan.”

Kahlan obeys, sliding her first two fingers inside her sex. It’s so hot, so liquid, and Kahlan’s hips jerk into her own hand. Cara’s head falls back against the column.

“Good,” Denna says. “But Cara would have fucked you hard. Wouldn’t you, Cara?” Cara moans in response, almost desperate in the way her body arches against the stone. Sweat beads on her forehead, and Kahlan can smell her arousal across the room.

With her eyes on Cara, Kahlan begins to move her hand faster, sliding in and out of her body in a fierce rhythm. She imagines that it’s Cara’s fingers inside her, Cara who is making her heart pound.

“Yes, like that,” Denna says. “She would have wanted to stretch you out, to feel how much of her you could take. Use another finger.”

Biting her lip, Kahlan eases a third finger inside herself. In her mind, it’s Cara who presses into her. Her legs spread wider apart to accommodate the intrusion, and she whimpers at the way her body seems to fill up.

“Yes, I know it hurts.” Denna’s voice is quiet, but edged with steel. “But if it were Cara, she would have wanted to hurt you a little bit. So that tomorrow, in the daylight, you would still feel her hands on you. So you would still ache for her.”

A strangled noise escapes Kahlan at Denna’s words. She presses her fingers deep inside her body, and her hips buck to meet them. She fucks herself hard, and her other hand rises up to pull at her nipples. Cara, unable to do anything but watch, twists in frenzied longing against her bonds.

“And she would have touched your clit while she fucked you, so she could feel your muscles tighten around her fingers.”

Kahlan moves her hand back down to find the knot of need between her legs. Her skin is already slick, and her fingertips slide as they try to make friction. Inside, she feels her center clench with crushing force around her hand, and it’s almost more than she can handle.

“Can you feel yourself get tight, Kahlan?” Denna says.

Kahlan’s breath comes in short pants, and she just manages to choke out, “Yes.”

“Good girl,” Denna says. “But if it were Cara who was touching you, she would have pulled away. Just a little, right when she knew you were about to climax. She would have made you crazy, Kahlan. She would have made you scream and beg her for what you needed.”

“Please!” Kahlan cries. But Denna doesn’t tell her to stop, and her entire body begins to shake as her fingers moves faster and deeper inside herself.

“Do you think she would have given you what you needed in the end, Kahlan? Do you think Cara would have let you come for her?”

“Yes!” Kahlan’s answer comes out more as a scream than a word.

“Then do it, Kahlan,” Denna growls. “Come, _now_.”

The world seems to break apart at Denna’s command, starting inside of her own body. Kahlan falls forward onto one hand, the other still moving furiously against her flesh. She wants to keep watching Cara, but her eyes slam shut against her will, and suddenly she is coming, screaming her release into the room. She is vaguely aware of the magic that implodes around her, and it takes all of her remaining strength to keep from collapsing on the floor.

She stays on her hands and knees, panting, until white boots appear in front of her. Strong hands grip her underarms and pull her up from the ground. The room spins slightly, until Kahlan finds her feet again. It feels like her heart might beat out of her ribs at any moment, and she clenches her hand around Denna’s forearm for stability.

“You did well,” Denna says, her voice soft.

Denna’s pale cheeks are flushed, and a single hair stands out from her perfect braid. Impulsively, Kahlan leans forward and presses her mouth against the other woman’s. She wonders briefly if she’ll be reprimanded, but she doesn’t care.

Instead, Denna lets her in, and their lips move together. The Mord-Sith twists one hand into the hair at the nape of her neck and presses her close with savage force. Their tongues tangle together, and Kahlan feels like she could lose herself in this kiss, like she might just melt right into the woman in front of her. But then Denna pulls back, separating their mouths, leaving Kahlan to catch her breath. She slides her hand out of dark hair, and she lets her fingers run over Kahlan’s shoulder and between her breasts before they find the Confessor’s hand, the one that clutches Denna’s forearm in a death grip.

Kahlan glances at Cara. The dark look on Cara’s face makes a new, sharp wave of need throb in her lower body. The Mord-Sith’s wrists and ankles are red from pulling at her bonds, and the leather seems about to snap. Cara stares at her with shameless need, and the ferocity of her desire makes Kahlan swallow. She is sure that the two Mord-Sith must be able to hear her heart pounding, because she can feel it pulse between her legs.

One by one, Denna disengages each of the Confessor’s fingers from her white leather. Kahlan looks down at their hands, and she watches as Denna pulls a narrow metal circle from the back of her belt. Denna places the object in her open palm, and Kahlan’s mouth falls open in shock. Her eyes grow wide as her fist closes tight around the Rada’Han. She wants to kiss Denna again, to express herself in a way she knows the Mord-Sith can understand. But before she can lean in to press their lips together, Denna steps back.

She reaches into her belt once more. She produces a small knife, and Kahlan has a brief, irrational instant of fear. But Denna flips the knife in her hand, and she holds the handle out to Kahlan.

“Hold the flat side against her skin when you slice the knots, or you’ll cut her.” Denna taps on the dull edge of the blade.

Kahlan looks between Denna and the knife. “But, don’t you want...?” She frowns. “I mean, aren’t you going to...?”

Denna pins her with a smoldering look. “Take it, Kahlan, before I change my mind.”

Kahlan isn’t sure what she thought would come next, but she hadn’t expected this. The two women stare at each other for several long moments. Kahlan may not be able to read Mord-Sith, but as she looks into Denna’s eyes, she doesn’t need her power to see the gift she is being offered. Her heart fills with silent gratitude for the magic Denna has done for her and Cara, in this room, in the way only a Mord-Sith could.

Kahlan knows better than to acknowledge Denna’s actions out loud. Instead, as she reaches out to take the wooden handle, she lets her fingers brush over the bare skin that peeks out between the woman’s glove and her sleeve. Denna nods curtly when her hand closes around the knife, and a tiny smile comes over Kahlan’s face. She is so much like Cara.

Denna looks from Kahlan to Cara, and the Mord-Sith seem to share an understanding meant only for the two of them. But then the feeling passes, and Denna turns on her heel.

“If you find yourselves lost without my guidance, you know where to find me,” Denna says as she stalks by Kahlan, her voice full of suggestion.

The smile on Kahlan’s face grows wider. Perhaps, one day, she will take Denna up on her offer. But for now, she turns toward the woman on the other side of the room -- the stunning, powerful, extraordinary woman who Kahlan has been unable to banish from her thoughts. Who is now bared before her.

Kahlan listens to the door open and close behind her as she takes in the sight of Cara, still tied to the column. She has stopped twisting against the stone, but the heat in her eyes has not cooled; if anything, it has grown more fiery. Kahlan crosses the room in four long strides, and she doesn’t pause for a breath before she cuts through the white cloth gag and takes Cara’s lips with her own.

Cara’s tongue pushes into her mouth, desperate for contact and fighting for dominance. Cara wins the contest, and Kahlan moans into the kiss. Only when she begins to feel light-headed and in critical need of oxygen does she pull away, just far enough to put a sliver of air between their lips.

“Kahlan,” Cara breathes out. Her voice is low and husky, and the feeling in it makes Kahlan shy and happy and flushed with need, all at once.

She runs her hands over Cara’s shoulders and down to caress her captive wrists. She glances down at the leather. It takes Kahlan a few seconds to get the words out, but finally she speaks. “Do you like to be tied up like this? Is it... enjoyable?” The word feels clumsy and inadequate for the way the idea makes her feel, for the way fresh wetness pools between her legs as she fingers the leather bonds.

Kahlan blushes at her own innocence, but Cara seems to relish it. A sly, knowing smile crosses her lips.

“Cut the knots, Kahlan, and I’ll show you.”


End file.
